Ties
by LightsBBQChips
Summary: Mello and Matt work together to unravel the truth about their past, but things aren't always as they seem . .


_Hey there, people! ^_^ _

_This is my first 'long' story that I've written, and more of an introducing chapter than anything else, so I can understand if it doesn't appeal to some. Regardless, please feel free to check it out. I'd love to hear your opinion on it! Thanks! ^^_

* * *

Mello stared pointedly at the drab wall in front of him, his legs folded underneath him. He'd been doing this a lot recently, trying to convince himself that he'd gain some kind of therapeutic benefit from it.

His eyes narrowed, yet he remained perfectly still. He was registering everything immediately in front of him: the sickly pink paint flaking in uneven patches, the unsightly mould bursting through the damp walls. He was gazing so intently at it, that a bead of sweat began to trickle down his temple. His head was starting to throb now, which was always a good sign. He became oblivious to his limbs, and his entire focus was directed on that putrid pink paint, the cracks running up and down it, the emptiness of . . .

'Mello? Hey, Mello, stop. You're scaring me! Mello . . . MELLO?'

Mello felt a sharp jolt as something barrelled into his side. He was awoken from his self-induced trance and took a second to rise from his groggy stupor. He could hear someone vaguely in the background, talking frantically to him – it could only have been his new roommate, Matt.

Mello came back to his senses and instantly felt enraged. He was known for his short temper and spontaneous attitude, but unfortunately for Matt, he hadn't known him long enough to grow accustomed to it.

Mello shot a look charged with hatred and irritation at his room-mate. Matt's cheeks turned crimson and he tried in vain to hide his embarrassed expression behind his shaggy auburn hair. He stammered, trying to justify himself.

'It freaks me out when you do that. I always think you're going to have some kind of seizure or something. Why do you even do it anyway?'

Mello looked down at his clenched fists, observing his pale skin turn even whiter at the knuckles.

'It helps me remember,' he shrugged, acting nonchalantly.

'What?' Matt asked.

'Stuff. Personal stuff. Stuff that isn't your business, _that_ kind of stuff,' Mello countered shortly. He rose steadily from his position and stalked out of the room, a stormy look plastered on his face. His blonde bob flounced dramatically and determined as always to make a statement, he slammed the creaky door shut behind him on his exit.

* * *

Matt lay down on the bed. This whole experience was miserable for him. Wammy's Orphanage, the home for all genius rejects across the globe – and here he was. He had suffered a lot in his life, with both his parents dying shortly after his birth. His whole life had been a continuous, tumultuous cycle from then on, with countless foster parents and relatives, all who felt intimidated by his unusually high intelligence. He always felt quite distanced from people, and never really made much of an emotional bond with any of the adult figures in his life.

Now, against all odds, he was here. At this point, no one would take him, and he felt mentally bruised because of it. He had moments of despair, thinking that there was no hope. But then, after being stuck in an orphanage elsewhere for the past two years of his life, he was to be transferred here, to a school for the 'gifted.'

He thought that he might be embraced, even accepted, as the other kids here were sure to be like him. Not so. Even though he tried to mix in, all the children just avoided him, because apparently it had been a while since a new child had been enrolled into this 'prestigious' place.

The one thing he had, his identity, was even taken from him. Mail Jeevas became 'Matt.' He despised it, but had been too silent to say so. It had to be said, that the two elderly men who greeted him and showed him around had been nice, but he wasn't going to trust them. He had an underlying fear that they were predators of a sort, so he avoided them if he could help it.

He was assigned to a room with a boy a year younger than him, called Mello. Any hope of becoming friends with him was soon dashed, however, when he saw how much of a diva he was.

Matt sniggered despite himself. Yes, Mello.

He was always seen clutching a bar of chocolate as opposed to eating anything substantial, and had a fierce competitive streak.

During one class the day before, he flew into a fearsome rage as he received 'only' 93% in a test. He kept throwing crumpled balls of paper at the single pupil who beat him, a weedy looking boy with shocking white hair curled on his head. Matt had to apologize to him after the lesson for his room-mate's atrocious behaviour, but the boy merely rolled his eyes and picked at a lock of hair on the crown of his head, slouching out of the class barefoot.

Matt sometimes wondered if he had been put into some kind of metal institution at one point, just seeing the way others interacted with him. Surely the conditions would have been better than they were, then? The rooms were poor and damp, but at least they were building a new wing for the children. Wammys was an old mansion built a couple of hundred years before, so it obviously wasn't going to be in the best condition today. But still, Matt had to wonder what kind of set up they were running.

All this floated around his head while he curled up miserably on his bed. There was no sign Mello returning. Matt's hair flopped over his eyes but he made no attempt to brush it away. Silent tears ran down his cheek as he tried to comprehend how hopeless his situation was. Eventually, he fell into a deep and troubled sleep.

* * *

_And there you have, it the first chapter of this story! Thanks for reading and I hope you liked this, I'm cautiously optimistic that I might be able to upload more chapters soon. Bear with it, if you can! :D_

_**Constructive Criticism** appreciated! _


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